


Cotton Casket

by eclipsed_pendulum



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Halloween, but like not really, kinda??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8441887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclipsed_pendulum/pseuds/eclipsed_pendulum
Summary: short fic where tord falls off a chair and he must be freed from curtain hell by his right-hand men





	

"Sir, might I ask what you're doing?" 

Tord, who is trying to stretch to the window from a wobbly chair, turns and glances at Patryk, who was standing in the doorway. He was confused, slightly curious, but concerned nonetheless. Why would Red Leader be trying to hang a fish net on a curtain rod? His leader squints at him and scoffs, "I'm putting this up. What does it look like?"

Patryk blinks, glancing awkwardly from the unstable chair to the window. He shrugs, "Exactly what you said. But why?" 

Tord seems to think over this for a moment, and there's a flash of emotions across his face, ones that Patryk can't identify. But that moment went as soon as it came, as Tord went back to trying to put up the net, nodding as he replied, "Halloween."

"Oh," Patryk responds, the two falling into an awkward silence. Both obviously had several thoughts on their mind, however it seemed like neither could put the thoughts into words. What a shame. Eventually he takes a hesitant step forward, no clue if it was his place to ask, but he holds out a hand, "Do you need any help?"

Tord shakes his head, "I got this."

Immediately after the words leave his mouth, he falls off the chair and onto the ground, making an almost squawking sound as he did so. He had succeeded in hooking the net, but his fall brought it down with him-- the curtains and all. 

Patryk raises a hand to his mouth, as if it would stifle the laughter leaving him. Yes, Tord was his leader, but the scene that unfolded before him was almost comical. His laughter stops when he hears footsteps approaching the door, quickly. Patryk shifts on his feet, on edge, until Paul bursts in, red in the face and out of breath. Ah.

"I heard a crash," he wheezes out. 

"Weren't you like, halfway across the base?"

"I have very good hearing," Paul supplies, still gasping for air. 

"It was halfway across the base, why are you dying? It's only like, 100 meters at best," Patryk snickers again, this time not bothering to hide it. 

Paul huffs, sitting up straight and dusting off his uniform. There was a moment of silence between them, amused on Patryk's end, and embarrassed on Paul's. But they suddenly both remembered why they were there, and spun to face Tord, who was still buried under the curtains. The light in his robot arm turning his fabric tomb to a light blue, and Patryk noted that it was a nice color, but now wasn't the time to appreciate the aesthetics. 

Paul pulls on the curtain rod almost experimentally, listening as Tord lets out a string of curses from inside. Patryk snorts and begins tugging at the curtains himself, sometimes sparing a glance at Paul. 

Eventually Patryk makes out a spot of dark ginger in the mess of white and light blue. He snorts, waving Paul over with one hand, "I found him!"

Tord tilts his head up and makes eye contact with his right-hand men, and tries to offer a small wave, which ends up being obscured. A tragedy, truly. He huffs, trying to cross his arms, but getting it more tangled, "Took you guys long enough."

Patryk is tempted to drop the curtains back on him, just out of spite, but decides against it. He made the mistake before, and does not want to go through with it again. Yikes. But Paul seems unaffected by the remark, still trying to free his leader from the fabric tomb of death. Tord was mumbling the entire time, and neither could pick up what he was saying. 

When he got out, Tord glanced over himself, and eventually sighed. It was obvious he was too tired to put the curtain back up, and frankly, Paul and Patryk were too. So he instead made a vague hand gesture, "What do you suggest we do?"

Patryk was silent as he thought, and raised his hand when the idea hit him, beaming, "We could watch a scary movie."

"Didn't they just make Return of the Insane Zombie Pirates from Hell 6?" Paul added in, and giving a slightly smug grin as he continued, "And guess who snagged one before they hit the shelves?"

Tord stared at the two, eyebrows raised and single eye widened. He had fallen into the habit of decorating, which had been something he did with the Gang™ before _The Accident™_. The idea of changing this habit was almost offending to him, but he constantly reminded himself that he was no longer with them.

If he wanted to be Red Leader, he needed to get used to change. 

"Count me in."

**Author's Note:**

> finger guns
> 
> i am extremely tired


End file.
